The Light of Madness
by grammarye
Summary: A sort-of tribute to Elisabeth Sladen. Involves the TARDIS.


The Light of Madness

I walked through the door of the refugee center, formerly the local school. It was the only place in town that still had a generator, what little good it did. The cold seeped through, even though I was wearing most of my clothing. The knapsack on my back made it the warmest part of my body, but not by much. The lights were on, but they were flickering so much that they helped little. I looked around, seeing where people had made fires to keep themselves warm. Those made the most light. They cast large shadows on the walls, of people and of children and of flickering flames. I stood there, in the cold cafeteria, and looked around.

There was no room in the cafeteria for me to sleep. I decided to explore and see if I could find myself a place that was warmer. I walked down the hall that led to the offices, managing to avoid stepping on the people sleeping there. It was a longer walk than I expected, but there were many people sleeping on the floor. Finally, I was in front of the door that led to the offices of the Principle and Vice-Principle. I opened the door to the area with the Principle's office and turned on the light. Surprisingly, it worked. I assumed that this was probably the only place in the school where the light did work. I saw the Principle's office was closed, so I tried the handle, hoping to get in. It would have made a nice place to stay, and I could have had that large office all to myself. The door was locked. I also tried the Vice-Principle's office, but it too was locked. I looked around for a key but found none. Then I saw the storage closet.

I opened the door to the storage closet and looked in. It was dark, but I was able to see due to the light streaming in from the office area. The lights were either off or burnt out in here, and I did not want particularly care to find out. From what I could see of the closet, it was empty. Someone had emptied it out already for fuel for a fire. I was surprised that no one had claimed it. I went in and felt around for a blanket on top of the shelves. I eventually found one in the far corner on top of a cupboard. I thought it a bit odd that a storage closet had a cupboard but paid it no mind. The blanket itself was gray and raggedy. It did not look like it would provide much protection from the cold, but a raggedy blanket was better than none.

I left the office area and went into the meeting room. Its lights also worked. As I was looking around the meeting room, I saw an old acquaintance of mine, Jane. She looked horrible, but I'm sure that I did not look much better.

"Hello Jane. It's nice to see you after so many years."

"Sarah, what are you doing here? I thought you had left long ago."

"I had. I came back to visit my mother and found myself forced to come here."

"Have you found yourself a place?"

"Yes, the storage closet in the office area."

Jane suddenly looked very frightened. "Whatever you do, don't turn on the light," she said emphatically.

"Why not?"

"Because those who do and come out of there (and not all of them do come out,) come out mad."

I wanted to ask how these people were mad, but I could see that the topic disturbed her. I changed the topic of conversation to something lighter and then made my excuses and left. I went back to the closet and debated whether to turn on the light or not. Jane should not have told me not to do so. It just made me curious as to what about the closet drove the people mad.

After much internal debate, I turned on the light and walked in the closet. I looked around and saw that what I had taken for a cupboard was a big blue box. It was tall and had "Police Box" written on it. Curious, I opened the door and stepped inside.

It was bigger on the inside

* * *

><p>When I left the big blue box, I was no longer in the school. I was someplace much warmer. I decided to stay unless I saw the big blue box again. Maybe it could take me home again and I could tell everyone how it took me someplace warmer. However, if I did that, they would think me mad. Maybe it would be better if I just stayed in this warm place for the rest of my life. It would be much better than being cold and being told I was mad.<p>

I stayed in that warm place, comfortable for the rest of my life. Until the blue box came again. But that is another story.


End file.
